Picture This
by Joolz6768
Summary: Don is forced to reveal more about himself and his no longer private life.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I've had this premise swimming around in my head for quite some time...I always thought that the character of Flack could open up a completely other life, one that he would have shared with Danny, as they're friends, but I always hung on to the thought that Flack could easily be portrayed a a homosexual character. I think Eddie Cahill is more than up to the job and would accomplish it with finesse. As much as I love the thought of Danny/Flack I can see this much more easily in relation to the show...

Flack/OMC...D/F friendship...

Rating anything up to FRAO...Spoilers: Snow Day...

Disclaimers...All characters belong to their creators at CBS...apart from original's which are mine, cause I've grown so fond of them.

Okay, off we go...

PICTURE THIS...

1. Catch the Sun...

It always lifted his spirits and caused his heart to flutter, no matter how many times he cleared the wooden steps at the front of the house...It was home, his haven, no matter how cold the New York wind would blow he always felt a warmth when he climbed the steps. It never failed to bring a smile to his face...Although today, pushing 85 degrees in the shade and only 9am, the warmth could only be described as overwhelming, not only inside but out. He fished in his pocket for his keys and finding them swiftly opened the screen and unlocked the door. Once inside, the temperature mercifully dived more than a few degrees as the air con with it's continual hum diligently cooled the air. Don shucked off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before pulling it off, dropping the constricting items over the back of the huge, well worn leather couch. He toed off his shoes and socks, cooling his feet on the smooth wooden floor as he padded into the kitchen unbuttoning his shirt as he moved, tugging it it free from his suit pants, stretching his back and groaning in pleasure as the welcoming cool air hit his skin. Pulling a soda out of the refrigerator, he drank deeply before shutting the door and taking the soda with him.

"Hey, he called out."

"Hey yourself," came the reply, "I'm in the den."

Don sat down astride the bench behind Joe and watched him work whilst swigging the soda. He never failed to marvel at the talent of the guy, how he could take a simple peice of charcoal and turn it into something amazing on canvas, how it was all so effortless for him. For Flack, matchstick men and funny heads were the most he could manage, although a good technical sketch he could just about master, but nothing on Joe's scale, nothing that was a passion, not in the way Joe's art consumed him.

Joe, his Joe, six feet tall, with dark, gray streaked hair that remained unruly, even at forty five. He was built more solidly than Don and tanned with a lifetime of travelling around the globe. The fine lines that ringed his sea green eyes just served to enhance his appeal, and by God, Don Flack loved him and revelled in the thought every time he came back home to him. He never had a clue just how the fuck it happened but he praised whoever'd listen every day that it had, and the last five years had been unbelievable.

Don had just returned from yet another night shift. Thankfully, it had been a busy night and had passed quickly, but he was bone tired having spent most of it running interference between tooled up warring neighbors, which was never his favorite job, combine that with the sarcastic bullets fired by his fellow officers who were, both pissed at his handling of the Truby affair and jealous of his notoriety after the huge drug bust, and yeah! he was glad to be home. He sank into Joe's back and hugged him, tightly, wrapping his barely shirt covered arms around Joe's uncovered chest, instinctively tracing the finely defined muscles and curves, nuzzling his neck before perching his chin on his shoulder, inhaling the intoxicating scent of home and charcoal and Joe, finding a welcome comfort in the scratch, scratch, scratch of the charcoal as it deftly moved over the canvas revealing more and more with each stroke.

Don was once again transfixed because as artists went, Joe was bloody good, if not amazing and at the moment was working on his own portfolio which would hopefully free him to concentrate on his own stuff full time, but until then he freelanced for the P.D..and forensics and anyone else who needed to put a face to a ghost or to hunt down a criminal. The stuff he was working on at home, Don thought, was nothing short of phenomenal and he glowed with pride, smugly basking in the knowledge that it was his man who was capable of such magnificence.

The scratching silenced, as Joe dropped the charcoal and sank back into Don's arms, relieving him of the cold drink and taking a long swig of it himself. Don laughed hoarsely, Joe hardly ever drank a bottle that Don hadn't started, it was just one of those little quirks they were so comfortable with.

"You sound tired, baby," Joe remarked.

"Yeah," Don sighed, "I'm still battin' the backlash."

"Hey, you're better then that, you know that," Joe bristled. The defensive edge on his lover's behalf creeping into his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, doesn't make it any easier though."

" I guess not, " Joe replied taking his lover's hand to his mouth slowly planting kisses on every finger.

"Don?"

"Yeah"

"How's Danny doin'?" Joe questioned reluctantly, not wanting to break the mood, but knowing he had to.

"Why d'ya ask, somethin' else happen? countered Don, stiffening warily.

"I don't think so, it's just that he called here about a half hour ago, we talked, I'm sure he's okay but, I dunno, maybe it's nothin', he just... sounded down. I'll call him back later and try and worm it outa him." Joe sighed as he turned himself around on the bench and faced Don.

"Oh, and you think it could be the Lindsey problem again, is that it? Cause I'm not thinking it's work. I mean he's only been back a week but he seems happier now that he's back in the swing of it."

"I got the impression they'd called it a day, maybe I'm wrong, but it's difficult to know what he means sometimes with all the babblin," Joe sighed, smiling, "he's had enough shit lately."

"Yeah, I know," Don shrugged, "but I also know, that like me, you worry too much about Danny, it's debatable at times, but he is a grown up, no matter how well he tries not to be." he said, tenderly stroking the side of Joe's face, seeing the concern in Joe's eyes and knowing how Joe felt.

"Mmm, there is that, but you know she gave him shit for disappearing a coupla weeks after," Joe started, only to be cut off by Don moving closer.

"How could I forget?" he smirked, before leaning in to capture Joe's lips with his own.

When Danny had disappeared shortly after the incident at the warehouse, they'd had Lindsey on the phone, frantic, every hour. Danny, apparently, had told her that he needed time alone to deal with it, but Lindsey being Lindsey took it as a personal rejection, she saw it along the lines of... 'if I can't help, who can'.

Danny had showed up at their house a day later, looking every inch the little boy lost. He'd done what he always did in a crisis. He'd gone to Don. Only Don had been at work and when Joe opened the door Danny had promptly broken down. When Don arrived home later that night, he found Danny curled up on the sofa in Joe's arms. He realized immediately that it had been the first time since the incident Danny had looked at peace.

Danny had stayed with them for a while after that. Joe made sure Danny called Lindsey the day after to tell her he was okay, but the call had disintegrated rapidly and Don had taken over when Danny'd had enough, telling Lindsey ever so politely, but firmly that Danny would call her when he was up to it. With that she had to be content. She hadn't liked it a bit but was too wary of Don to argue the point. Don had also called Mac and arranged for extended leave for Danny, he'd known that Danny was going to take some time to put himself back together.

Danny's time at Don's had been a revelation for him. He'd known about their relationship for almost as long as they'd been in it, although he'd admitted shock at first when Don told him about his sexuality, it wasn't the relationship that bothered him, just the opinions of others, and whether Don was quite ready for that. After he'd met Joe, all his fears had been allayed, he'd seen straight away that this was a man who'd be worth the risk, worth the hassle from others and worth the seal of approval that Danny found hard to give to anyone. He'd seen what a real, solid relationship was like and craved that warmth, love and security for himself, not jealously but wantingly.

Between Don and Joe, they'd steadily broken down Danny's defence shield about the incident and gotten him to open up and admit a lot of things about himself and his way of dealing with things. No longer did he curl up into the proverbial ball and sink back into himself, telling everyone who'd listen that everything was okay when it obviously wasn't. He talked, at great length with Joe whilst Don had been at work and had formed a real bond with him. Hell, he'd even taken up painting, another thing Don had rolled his eyes skywards at when faced with the sight of Joe and Danny each beavering away at their respective canvasses when he'd got home from work one morning. Joe had managed to find Danny an outlet for all the tension which didn't involve drinking himself into a stupor or careering headlong into a damaging relationship. Unfortunately for Lindsey, Danny had promised himself to have a real think about their future, or lack of one.

" Do you remember when he caught us in the shower," giggled Don, as he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead on Joe's.

"I'm tellin' ya Don, he won't forget that in a hurry, I think he washed his eyeballs in whisky to make it go away."

"Come on, J, I was on my knees with your cock in my mouth at the time."

"Honestly though, Don, his face was a picture, I wish you could have seen it, his eyes popped outa his head and it's the only time he's ever been lost for words."

"All I heard was a crash and mumbled I'm sorry's."

"Yeah, you were a little busy at the time, but hell! the way he fell outa the bathroom was classic, he ended up on his ass pushing himself outa the door with his feet, he just couldn't get up, I think his knees had just about given up in shock."

Joe was giggling hysterically by this time and Don siezed his chance to tip him off balance and land them both on the rug.

"How about a repeat performance?" murmured Don, lazily grinding his rapidly hardening cock into Joe's.

"Oh yeah!" he grinned. "I think I could cope with that."

They never did quite make it to the bathroom for as soon as Joe responded to Don's obvious need, Don was rendered immobile. Joe had him flipped over and gasping with want at what seemed like twice the speed of sound. Before Don could even think, Joe had gotten him out of his shirt and was working open the zipper on his pants. Off they came along with his boxers at the same rapid rate, leaving Don bare and achingly hard. Joe had somehow shimmied out of the shorts he'd been wearing and was now concentrating his ministrations on Don's wanton erection, mouthing it just the way he knew Don loved, alternating between fast and slow, deep and shallow. Don was rendered helpless, groaning at the abject change of pace and depth, mewling as Joe let his teeth slightly graze his sensitive flesh as he pulled back before swallowing Don's length swiftly, enveloping him in the exquisite textures of his skilled mouth and throat. Not to mention the long steady finger that was now massaging his prostate, sending his body into sensory overload.

"Jesus, fuckin' Jesus, aaahh," Don cried as the familiar flush reddened his skin and he arched, so close to completion.

He didn't even wonder where Joe'd gotten the lube from, he'd hardly noticed Joe's finger leaving his body before it was back slicker than ever, swiftly joined by another and another as Joe upped the pace and scissored him, leaving him in no doubt what was next. Joe reluctantly realeased his lover's cock and gently lifted his calves, resting them on his broad shoulders, smiling gratuitously before thrusting himself into Don's welcoming body leaving no time for him to get used to the feel as he moved, slowly at first, crying out, surfacing the emotion Don's easy acceptance of him unleashed. He savoured it for just a moment before seriously upping the tempo, finding Don's prostate again, every time, reducing the man to incoherant babbling. They comfortably knew the others limits and signals, so as Joe reached down to fist his lovers needy erection Don opened his eyes and raised his head slightly, fixing Joe with a wonderous gaze as he reached for him and willed them both to completion. They came together in perfect symmetry, Don spilling himself over Joe's hand as Joe fiercely filled Don, their eyes closing with the force of their simultaneous orgasms until they stuttered to a stop then widening in amazement that they still had this effect on each other. Finally, they slumped together on the rug, neither wanting to lose the contact, listening to the sound of their combined breathing as it slowly returned to normal. These moments they relished just as much as the physical sex, the emotional ties being of equal or more importance to them as the physical.

"You okay, baby?" asked Joe, as Don turned to him and playfully ruffled his tangled hair, grinning and nodding slightly in answer, before hauling Joe off the floor and in the direction of their first target. The bathroom.

They showered each other languidly, soaping the other down gently, chatting about what Joe's plans for the day entailed as all Don's added up to was lots and lots of glorious sleep. After Don had cussingly as always gotten through Joe's unruly mop of hair they turned off the water and towelled dry. Don then headed for the bedroom while Joe made for the kitchen picking up the strewn clothes along the way and donning his shorts. A few moments later he re-appeared in the bedroom with a cup of coffee and a bagel for Don, knowing full well that coffee was the only thing he'd drink, whatever the time of day. He'd once tried to get him to drink tea and had been met with a horrendous pout and accusations of trying to feed him poison, so that hadn't been repeated.

Joe dressed as Don ate ravenously and downed the coffee almost in one gulp. He closed the closet door before walking back to the bed and softly kissing Don on the cheek.

"I love you, baby," he whispered, "get some sleep, you're gonna need it later, we gotta party tonight, remember?"

"Yeah, don't worry, I remember," he paused as he wriggled in the sheets..."Love you too, ya horny bastard, although I ain't gonna be sittin' well for a coupla days."

"You love it and you know it." countered Joe, playfully shoving Don down on to the pillows, "now sleep, and that's an order."

"Christ, I'm a lucky sonofabitch." Don laughed.

"And don't you forget it."

Joe smiled to himself as he closed the door and left Don to sleep, content in the knowledge that life was good.


	2. Chapter 2

Usual disclaimers...I own no-one in the show, I just like to use them from time to time.

2. Stormy weather...

Mac hated days like this, days that he was forced to catch up on the much maligned paperwork. Danny also disliked them, immensely, him being more of a hands on, let's get to the point and find that perp kinda guy. Unfortunately for him, although the splint had been removed, his hand hadn't quite healed and he still had another few days to go before he was cleared and determined fully fit. Until then, he was riding a desk mostly and running the mundane stuff. But, the day was starting off slow and only Sheldon and Stella had been assigned to the home invasion which was their only case so far. Mac and Danny were left with dotting the i's and crossing the t's and mopping up the general scut that had to be cleared from time to time, grumbling and nit-picking all the way.

Danny had been back at work a little over a week and Mac had noticed the slight change in the man's demeanour. He'd aced the statutory psych eval and completed the required hours of departmental counselling, so, to Mac, it wasn't a terrible change, just a subtle shift into a more guarded mode. He was sure more of the old Danny would finally break through, he still held the promise of the old histrionics and from time to time they bubbled up and simmered but they surfaced a lot less and Mac wasn't quite sure as to whether or not he missed the drama queen or was glad it'd been dampened down, it was just the way it had been doused that he wished had never happened.

The sighs were getting ever more audible as Danny wrestled with the mountain of paperwork Mac had dumped in front of him, shuffling around in his chair and tapping his feet impatiently.

"Mac, c'mon, there must be something else I can do, I'm gettin' writers cramp here, I'm beginning ta wish they'd stamped on this hand," he grumbled, holding his right hand up in the air and flexing it.

"Hey, less of that, Danny," Mac chided gently, "it'll heal soon enough and then you'll wish paperwork was all you had to do." he continued, pointing his pen in Danny's direction.

"Never, I don't think that hell could be worse than this, I'm goin' stir crazy stuck in here Mac, can I go out on the next call, please Mac, honestly, I won't get in the way, I'll take notes, label, anything." He pleaded.

"You got out of here a couple of hours ago," Mac stated.

"That was different, regulation lunch breaks don't count." Danny pouted, "now, 'bout me hitchin' a ride on the next job?"

"You're persistant," grinned Mac, "It'll cost you though, if, I let you."

"Mac, you got it, name your price."

"Coffee, the good stuff, not from the breakroom," he paused for a moment before adding, "and a cinnamon muffin from Ed's deli, some of us didn't get lunch," he added, thinking back to the huge sub he'd been forced to watch Danny wolf down over an hour ago. His stomach was still growling.

"Anythin' ta get outa here," laughed Danny, "back in a few," he added, doing a swift about turn before Mac had chance to change his mind and made for the elevators with a renewed spring in his step.

As Danny headed out to the deli he regretted his decision for a split second as he felt as though he'd been stuck into the oven and turned on to fast cook, the heat was overpowering. The city in Summer was hard work, your clothes stuck to you, the air thickened and everyone cussed more, still, he didn't think he'd ever want to leave, it was home, no matter what. He felt his face flushing and once again bemoaned his fair skin and the instant sunburn he seemed to be 'blessed' with, so quickly made his way down the block and dived into the mercifully air conditioned haven of Ed's.

"Hey, Danny, good to see ya, hon," shouted Rita, Ed's larger than life other half, quickly smoothing down the gaudily flowered pinafore she was never without.

"What can I get ya sweetie?"

Danny recited his order and chatted about this and that as Rita got everything together, putting them all into a 'to go' bag so as he could carry most things with his good hand. He bristled slightly on hearing an Irish accent shout out in the back of the store and took a deep breath to steady himself.

"Everythin' okay?" Rita asked, concerned at his sudden stillness.

"Yeah, It's nothin', really, it's nothin" he replied as the smile returned to his face and the moment vanished.

He put the spare change from the order into the charity box on the counter before bidding Rita goodbye and strolling back to the lab on the shady side of the street in no rush whatsoever to get back to the mountain of paperwork. He thought briefly on his reaction back in the store and accepted reluctantly that it was gonna take time.

"Rome wasn't built in a day," he muttered quietly and knew that neither would his confidence be. He was trying to learn a new skill thesedays, a skill he'd never quite understood until now, patience.

The tune on his cellphone interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey, how're you doin'?" he answered softly.

"I'm fine, I just wondered if you could bring those discs I left at your place to work with you tomorrow," asked Lindsey, "only it's a bit of a trek from my place to yours."

"Sure, no problem, you off all day?" he asked.

"No, I'm in later but I've got a ton of stuff to do, what about you?"

"I've just stepped out for coffee, takin' a little break, y'know how it is."

"Quiet then?" she giggled, "you know what they say, the calm before the..."

"Don't even, don't even go there, Montana, ya hear."

"Loud and clear," she paused, "listen, I gotta go, okay."

"Hey, Lindsey," Danny stuttered.

"Yeah."

"For the record, I'm glad we're still friends."

"Me too," she said, before adding, "I think friends, definitely, works better for us."

"You got that right, hey, I'll see you at work, yeah!"

"Yeah, and don't forget my discs, ok?"

"I won't, I promise. See ya then."

"Bye, Danny."

Danny popped the phone back in his pocket and bounded up the steps into the CSI building, relishing the sudden drop in temperature. He thought about the brief, but intense affair with Lindsey and was glad they'd both realised their mistake early on, before any real damage was done to their friendship. They'd talked it all out last night over a few drinks and gotten along a heck of a lot better than when they'd been together. He couldn't wait to tell Flack, that was one person who'd be breathing a huge sigh of relief. He reminded himself to call him again later, after shift. Flack and Joe were going out tonight and would probably have more than a few celebratory drinks at hearing the news. He stifled back a laugh and pressed the button to summon the elevator.

As the elevator doors opened he found himself almost nose to nose with Mac, a geared up ready for a crime scene, Mac.

"Good thinking, Danny," Mac stated as he pointed at the 'to go' bag.

"We gotta call?" questioned Danny, expectantly hopping from one foot to the other.

"Yeah, we've got a call, but all you're going to be doing, Danny, is taking notes, understood!" Mac stated, leaving Danny in no doubt.

"Scouts honor," he grinned.

"I'd have more confidence in that statement if I didn't categorically know that you'd never been a boyscout," Mac countered, steering them both out of the door and over to the vehicle compound.

As they walked over to the vehicle, Mac took the chance to grab his oversized muffin and coffee and throw Danny the keys, much to Danny's shock.

"I'm drivin'?" questioned Danny with an overtly raised eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure it's not Christmas yet, Mac."

Mac shook his head, but smiled nonetheless. "Shut up and do as you're told...before I change my mind and leave you here to fry."

"You got it, boss," Danny answered, as he unlocked the vehicle.

Mac climbed in the passenger side after putting his case in the trunk, settling down and tucking into his food and coffee.

"What've we got then," asked Danny as he started the engine, plugging the scene's location into the sat nav.

"Abandoned vehicle," Mac replied.

"What? Isn't that a traffic job?" Danny grumbled, furrowing his brow.

"Not when there's signs of harrassment, blood present and a smashed windshield it isn't."

"Ahh, now you're talking."

They were lucky with the timing, negotiating the midtown traffic relatively quickly and heading off out to Brooklyn.

"Ah, Mac, you gotta be kiddin' me, look at that," Danny grumbled, flicking the wiper switch, swatting away the offending raindrops.

"Put your foot down, Danny, or we're going to have no scene left to process."

"Summer downpours, dontcha just hate 'em." stated Danny as he turned on the siren and hit the gas.

They reached the scene soon afterwards and Mac grabbed his case, sprinting over to the jeep. Fortunately, for them at least, it was rammed into a tree trunk and the leaves were staving off the worst of the rain.

"Danny, come on, grab the board and take notes," he shouted.

"Right behind you, Mac, where do you wanna start?"

"Officer Davy, " asked Mac, " who called it in?"

"Hang on, got it right here," he replied, ducking under the branches before taking out his notebook. "Cecil Montgomery and wife, driving home from their daughters place, saw a car screaming away, then noticed the jeep under the tree."

"What time was that?" questioned, Danny, writing as quickly as he could as Mac quickly got to work on the jeep.

"2.50pm, forty five minutes ago," he recited. "They took down the number of the plate, we ran it, but it must be a fake, we got nothin'."

"Wonderful," complained Danny. "I'll go over and talk to them."

"Green sedan, back there," gestured the Officer.

Danny spent a while with the shellshocked couple, making sure nothing was missed and they'd gone over the events a couple of times just to make sure.

"Danny, over here a minute, can you label these up,"

"What've you got, Mac?"

"I got trace from the airbag deployment, should be able to get dna, blood from the slashed seatbelt."

"Slashed seatbelt, kinda rules out joyriders, don't you think?"

"Let's get all the facts before we rule out anything, yes?"

"I know, Mac and I'd agree, but we got another witness over there who says they saw someone or something dragged away from the jeep, but by the time they'd stopped their car, they'd disappeared, time ties in with the other witnesses who saw the car screaming away," Danny explained. "Gotta say, I'm leaning towards kidnap, Mac."

"Have the P.D run the jeep's plates yet?" asked Mac, "it's brand new, only 10 miles on the clock," he observed.

"Officer?" shouted Danny. "Who's the registered owner of the jeep?"

"Vehicle is registered to a, Finley Marshall at a Staten Island address, we've sent a couple of uniform over to the address, just waiting for them to check in."

'Finley Marshall," Danny puzzled. He was sure the name sounded familiar, but couldn't for the life of him remember why. He shook his head, he'd find out soon enough he supposed.

Mac interrupted. "Subtract standard delivery milage and there's not enough miles on the clock to have made it over from Staten Island."

"So, the jeep was purchased here in Brooklyn, within a four or five mile radius," stated the Officer.

"Let's get everything back to the lab and I'll get on it, Mac."

"I'm not getting such a good feeling with this, Danny, we need to find Finley Marshall, and quick!"

They watched as the jeep was carefully wrapped and hoisted onto a tow truck, ready for it's journey back to the CSI garage. After it's removal, Mac diligently scoured the area underneath and surrounding, making doubly sure that nothing had been missed or overlooked.

"We got everything, Danny?" he questioned.

"Yeah, well, everything the rain didn't get to first," he answered.

"We can't do any more than that, Danny, as much as it pains me to admit it," Mac countered with a shrug. "Let's get moving, sooner we get all this back, the sooner we'll get some answers."


	3. Chapter 3

Usual disclaimers...apart from originals...I own no-one, unfortunately.

Thanks so much for the reviews...It means a lot...

3...Into the Fire...

Don stretched sleepily, turning over slowly, reluctantly forcing himself to take a look at the clock on the nightstand through his one open eye. Having registered the time, he shook himself awake and dragged himself out of bed and into the shower for the second time that day, chuckling to himself that this shower would only take a few minutes. After quickly making use of the gushing water to wash away the remains of sleep from his body, he wrapped a towel around his torso before heading over to the kitchen and fixing himself something to eat. He then scurried around, cussing, as he once again began the hunt for the ever elusive remote control. Where that damn thing ever got to, when he could've sworn he left in the same place was one of life's puzzling mysteries. Giving up a silent prayer on finding the elusive device, he settled down in front of the tv to catch up on the sports results. As he picked up his cell and turned on the volume, he opened an earlier text message from Joe, asking him to pick up some wine from Morgans around the corner as he'd been stuck on the train back from Manhattan and had a few other things to do before he'd be home. Don smiled, he knew Joe indulged his 'wine snobbery' as he called it and left the buying to him, although, Joe was the one who'd taught him everything he now knew about the beverage.

"I'll just have five more minutes," he thought, dropping his cell back on the coffee table and stretching his long legs out the length of the sofa, "then I'll get my ass into gear."

He mentally ticked off all the things he had to do with what was left of the day and sighed as he slouched back into the familiar comfort of the leather, relishing his five minutes.

Having made it back to the lab, Danny was busy writing up evidence dockets, whilst Stella, who'd been hastily re-assigned to their case paced the layout room, deep in concentration as she tackled the intricate task of processing what she hadn't sent to the lab. Sheldon was hastily wrapping up the straightforwards home invasion from earlier, more than capable of finishing up on his own. He would then transfer his attentions to the major case and start to process the jeep, which was now, unfortunately, bogged down in traffic, but was as always, expected imminently.

"I blame you for all this, Montana," drawled Danny, eyes fixed in a playful glare as he spotted Lindsey approaching his desk at the start of her shift, pointing his pen at her and pretending to fire. "Never, ever, joke about a quiet day," he stressed, raising an eyebrow to prove his point. Lindsey rolled her eyes and made a face in return before heading over to Mac's office for her assignment.

"Lindsey, run by Adam's lab 'now' and pick up some results for me." Mac shouted, hardly even looking up from his desk where he was hastily stacking up all the cold cases he'd been trawling through that morning.

"Hello to you too, Mac," Lindsey countered, recoiling slightly at the tone in his voice. "Was it something I said? although I'm sure I haven't actually said anything yet," she added, a bewildered look settling on her face.

"Lindsey," he paused, gathering himself and looking up, "I'm sorry, that came out a little different than I meant it," Mac explained, dumping the last of the files back into the cabinet before holding up his hands in apology.

"Have we got a live one?" she asked, gingerly.

"I think we've got a ticking clock, a missing person and not a whole lot of reason yet."

"Okay, enough said, I'm on it," she replied, beating a hasty retreat.

"Wait, I'll walk down with you and fill you in on the way, bring you up to speed, so to speak," Mac relented a little. "Besides, I need to get the garage ready for the rest of the evidence arriving anyway."

Danny had finished all the paperwork he could do for the moment so was flitting around, helping, or hindering, in some cases, where he could. There had been no answer at the address registered to the driver of the wrecked vehicle, but then again, had they really expected there to be, judging from the witness reports. But still, something about the name bothered Danny, something in the very back of his brain that he couldn't quite fish out. He busied himself on the DMV database and pulled up a copy of the drivers license for Finley Marshall.

Finley Marshall, female, caucasian, five feet five inches tall, age twenty three, brunette, green eyes...

Danny racked his brains, again and again, he coulda sworn knew the name and the face, but couldn't for the life of him remember from where. He sighed again in sheer frustration and wiped at his glasses.

"Think, goddammit!!! come on Messer," he chided himself. "A chick this fine, you'da been all over her at one time."

"Whoa, now that's a babe," whistled Officer Davy, surprising the deep in thought, CSI making him almost jump out of his skin.

"Hey, you wanna say somethin' before you sneak up on people," snapped Danny, albeit trying to diffuse his comment and remain friendly. Seriously though, he was rattled, he hated being snuck up on and seeing as the last time ended up with him being pistol whipped, he was more than a little wary nowadays.

Danny composed himself. "What can I do for you, Officer?" he asked.

"I located the dealership that sold the jeep."

"And?" pushed Danny, thinking just how easy they all had it when Flack was on call. Flack with his uncanny ability to know just what they all needed, and when.

"And unfortunately, all the paperwork for the day's business had been locked away in the safe, manager had some sort of an emergency and left for home," Davy added, shaking his head.

"Is that it?"

"Nope, I'm not emptyhanded. I got the assistant to pull the security footage, two cameras running, one inside, one out. I got 'em both," he grinned, placing two vcr tapes on the desk.

"Hallelujah," sighed Danny.

"You'll keep me in the loop?" Davy quizzed with a sarcastic smile.

"Of course, as soon as we know anything," Danny recited the well known spiel.

"You'll be in touch, right?" Davy sniggered, rolling his eyes skywards.

"Adam..Adam...Adam...I bring you gifts..."

"No more gifts, Danny, please, I'm about up to here," he pointed at the ceiling, looking ripe to explode, "with gifts."

"What've you got, Danny?" Mac interrupted, creeping out of the shadows and just appearing, as only Mac could.

"Videotapes from the security cameras at the dealership the jeep was purchased from," he answered, placing the tapes into Mac's hands and earning himself a heartfelt psychic 'thankyou' from Adam.

"You got time to sit in on these?" Mac questioned of Danny.

"Sure, there's something I gotta tell you though. The R/O, Finley Marshall, I'm sure I know her from somewhere, but, I just can't place her."

Mac eyed Danny, "Do we have a conflict of interest here?"

"No, no, Mac, nothing like that, I promise," Danny answered, shaking his head furiously, "honestly."

"Okay, I'll trust you on that, come on, we've got a lot to get through," Mac stated.

"You want inside, or out?" Mac offered, only to be met by Danny's shrug of the shoulders.

"Okay, outside then, that way it's not me who has to sift through the traffic and pedestrians and such," he added with a wry grin.

Mac and Danny then settled themselves down in the AV lab, buoyed up by vats of coffee and donuts, graciously accepted from Hawkes, who for some reason, seemed to have bought for the entire lab.

"Hey, Hawkes!" shouted Danny, "not that I'm complainin' or anythin', but donuts?"

"What can I say, Danny, the new girl in the coffee shop has the hots for me," Hawkes winked in reply.

Danny shook his head and laughed before switching back to serious mode, studying every bit of the tape now playing in front of him.

"Well that's strange!" thought Stella, as she came out of DNA. She stood still for a moment, mentally double checking, before turning on her heels to find Adam to back up her results.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know, I'll be right down," said Mac, returning his cellphone to his pocket.

"That the garage?" Danny questioned.

"Yes, the jeep's finally arrived and Hawkes isn't quite through with his case yet," Mac stated, "I'm going to head off down there and get a good look at it."

"And you want me to carry on the good work here, am I right?" Danny nodded his head.

"You're right," Mac grinned.

"Okay, okay, just make sure you endorse the disability claim when I go blind, a'right," Danny added, pinching the bridge of his nose before once again rubbing his eyes and cleaning his glasses.

"Deal."

"Adam, can you double check these blood results from the possible kidnap case," she pleaded, furrowing her brow in confusion, "from all accounts we're dealing with a female vic and these just don't add up."

"Stella, I'm a little bit snowed under here," he groaned, peeking at her from over the top of a microscope.

"Pleeeeeease," she begged again, "next lunch is on me," she grinned.

"Okay, okay, great piece of bribary, Stella," he paused. "Listen, I'll bring em to you as soon as I've had a chance to go through them, okay."

"Thanks, Adam," she whispered, before blowing him a kiss and heading back to the layout room.

As Danny studied the footage from the car dealership, he noticed one thing. People sure did like to window shop. For every four that went in only one was serious about buying. He reckoned the salesman on their commission based salaries must get mighty pissed off on days like today. He zeroed in, suddenly puzzled at seeing one particular customer, freezing the frame and noting the time before getting back to studying the video once again. A little while later he almost jumped out of his chair.

"Shit, shit, shit," he cursed under his breath, banging his good fist on the counter as the target vehicle appeared from the back of the building. "They must have a service entrance around the back."

He carefully picked at the footage of the jeep leaving the dealership, struggling with the odd angle to see who was in the drivers seat, cussing at the fact that it was going to take time to make a positive ID. Time that they guessed Finley Marshall didn't have.

Mac was now going over the jeep with his proverbial 'fine toothcomb' and was rather surprised at the amount of blood patterns and spatter he was finding. Without the rain and bad light to hamper his observations, he was now drawing the conclusion that whoever was in the jeep had received a severe beating before being cut out of the heavily bloodstained seatbelt webbing. He carefully printed the steering wheel and passed his findings to Hawkes who'd just arrived to help.

"You want me to run these, Mac?"

"Please, there's at least two different sets as far as I can tell," Mac explained. "Oh, and can you drop the other bag off with Adam," Mac added, pointing to the bench and the clear plastic evidence bag.

"A pendant, huh?" Sheldon remarked, holding the bag up to the light and examining it. "Quite a distinctive pattern, I'd say it's been custom made."

"I'd say you're right, it looks pretty high end, had to have been yanked off with some force to break that thickness of chain," added Mac. "Put it under the scope and see if you can find a jewellers mark, logo, anything, okay?"

"You got it, I'll let you know if I get anything."

Meanwhile in the A/V lab, Danny stood up with a sickening jolt and backed away from the screen, completely un-nerved by what he was seeing. He froze the image of the jeep's driver almost in a daze and hit the print button. He picked up the photograph in disbelief almost reeling as he remembered exactly where he knew Finley Marshall from. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the others gathering in Adam's lab. Taking a deep breath and composing himself he followed.

The repeated beeps of the various machines were almost deafening, as all the evidence fell into plain view. Stunned looks were exchanged between the co-workers. Lindsey once again picked up a dna result that came back to an 'internal control sample'. A very male 'internal control sample'. Hawkes flashed up the owner of the prominent set of fingerprints, once again the same 'internal control sample.' He then pulled up the address.

Mac and Stella looked first at each other and then turned as Danny cleared his throat at the back of the room.

"Isn't that address?" quizzed Mac.

"Yeah," interrupted Danny, cutting Mac off in mid sentence and slumping miserably down in a chair, throwing the picture down on the desk before running his hands through his hair and attempting to find his voice.

Lindsey picked up the photograph Danny had thrown on the desk. It was grainy, blurred, but put it up against the results and against the picture now on screen of the victim from the internal register and there wasn't much doubt.

"Oh my god, Danny."

"Ya got that right, Montana," he croaked wearily, turning around and looking Mac squarely in the face.

"You better buckle up for this one, guys."

Once again, thanx for taking the time to review...I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are completely my own ...blush... and I do apologise.


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